Lana Kane: Secret Courier
by Red Witch
Summary: Lana finds her side hustle to be extremely annoying as well as surprisingly lucrative.


**The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters has gone off on a mission somewhere. I may have made up one or two other people but they're not all that important in the long run. These days even Lana needs a side hustle. This is what I came up with. **

**Lana Kane: Secret Courier **

"Thanks for driving me to see Sterling while my car is in the shop, Lana," Mallory sighed. "I swear to god if that mechanic overcharges me I'm going to shove a muffler up his ass. He's going to need a lube job to get it out."

"Good to see you're a little bit of your old self," Lana remarked as she drove. "It's no problem Mallory. I have to run some errands for the office anyway. I said I'd pick up some office supplies and put up some flyers."

"I was wondering why you had a box of these pink abominations," Mallory sighed.

"I don't print them," Lana defended. "I just distribute them!"

"Wait," Mallory realized. "Why did you **volunteer **to put up flyers and pick up supplies for the office?"

"I had to get **out** of there," Lana said in a dark voice. "It was either this or kill them. And I don't want my daughter to grow up without her mother as well as her father."

"What did they **do**?" Mallory sighed.

"They're having a series of debates," Lana sighed. "It involves vampires. And stories about Cheryl's crazy ass family. That's all I'm going to say."

"I see your point," Mallory winced. "Give me a couple flyers Lana. It's the least I can do. Plus, it will give me something to do for a few seconds."

"You're going to sneak some of them onto the bulletin boards and bathrooms again, aren't you?" Lana asked.

"I guess I could do that too," Mallory admitted. "I was thinking more along the lines as using the backs as rough drafts for some letters I need to write. Or doodle. What? I can't just sit by Sterling's side looking at the phone all the time!"

"Take as many as you want," Lana sighed.

"How many fliers do you have?" Mallory asked as she pulled some out of the box in the back.

"Fifty," Lana said. "I have to get rid of fifty fliers."

"I'll take ten," Mallory said as she took them. "That's my contribution."

"Thanks," Lana said. "Let's just say I'm not going to be any hurry to put the rest up and bring them back to the office."

"I'll make it fifteen," Mallory took some more. "Treat yourself to a coffee break. That's the least I can do. The one good thing about Sterling's coma is that it limits my time with the Idiot Squad."

"You don't want to **know **what they've been doing," Lana sighed.

"I'd rather be surprised at the trial," Mallory said as Lana parked the car. "Thanks for driving me."

"What time do you want me to pick you up?" Lana asked.

"Depends if I can land a doctor for a date," Mallory shrugged. "Oh, who am I kidding? If I haven't gotten one by now…I am really off my game. Damn it Sterling, you made me get off my game!"

"What time?" Lana sighed. "After five?"

"Why not?" Mallory sighed. "I don't suppose you want to go to dinner later, would you?"

"If you don't mind having AJ with us," Lana reminded her. "I have to pick her up from County Day."

"I guess that means the latest trendy bar is out," Mallory groaned. "Great. I get to choose from a restaurant that either has a clown or a giant rodent for a mascot."

"I was thinking Luigi's," Lana said. "They have a good kids' menu and good prices."

_"Again?"_ Mallory groaned as she got out. "I haven't had this much pasta since I was in Italy for a month. And less wine! I hate those BYOB places."

"Unless you want to pay for somewhere else," Lana began.

"Fine," Mallory sighed. "We'll go to the Chicken Place."

"Really?" Lana asked. "I thought you hated those kitschy type places."

"I do," Mallory said. "But it has a good chicken burger and a bar that makes a mean Tom Collins. Trust me, I can put up with a little tacky décor for **that**. See you at five Lana." She left.

"Well…" Lana said as she drove off. "That's a freebee. Now to get to work. If you can call it that."

An hour later Lana was in an underground parking lot of a mall. "Where are they?" Lana looked at her watch. "If I had known they were going to be this long I would have gotten some flyers distributed."

"I guess I should be grateful that nobody at work knows I've been doing this for the past few weeks. God if Mallory found out, she'd have a hissy fit. I can't believe I'm saying this, but thank God Archer is in a coma. He's distracting her."

"I can't keep doing this though. Today is the last day. That's it. I'll just get my last payment then I can put this all behind me. Then I will focus on my career. My detective career. That has had almost no clients."

"Except for Cheryl. Technically she counts as a client. Technically she counts for several of them now that I think about it."

"I wonder if I should go into real estate? Might not be that hard to get certified as an agent. I mean I know the economy isn't perfect but you never know? At least I won't have to take a physical to pass. Or a target practice course."

"It couldn't hurt to look at a brochure."

"Oh good, they're finally here," Lana saw two familiar people approach. "They took their own sweet time. It's hilarious, they lecture **me** about being punctual but **they're** the ones who are always late!"

Two men got into the car. "About time," Lana said. Then she noticed the two people meeting her were rather banged up. "What happened to **you?**"

"Traffic was murder," Jack Hunter grumbled.

"Why do I get the feeling that you mean it literally?" Lana raised an eyebrow. She took something out of her purse. "Here's the disk drive you wanted me to transport."

"It doesn't matter," Hunter grumbled. "The disk drive is blank."

"So I was a decoy?" Lana fumed.

"That was the plan," Hunter groaned. "Unfortunately for us, someone figured that out."

"I told you we had a mole!" Agent Tack snapped.

"We got him, didn't we?" Hunter snapped.

Agent Tack sighed. "Long story short the real disk got destroyed and things are going to get really messy with headquarters."

"I still get paid though right?" Lana asked.

"Five grand, yes," Hunter sighed as he took out a check. "And no, it won't bounce."

"Fine," Lana sighed. "Just don't blame me for this."

"It's not your fault we had a mole," Agent Tack said.

"Never going to let that go, are you?" Hunter groaned.

"Okay I'm out **for good** this time," Lana said. "And I **mean** it! No more stupid spy games. I'm **done**! I'm out of that life! I admit there's not that much difference between my old life as a spy and my life as a detective. But I'm **done** this time!"

"I know," Hunter said.

"I only agreed to do these past few courier missions for the money," Lana snapped. "One **last **time! That's it! I'm **out** of here! I never **saw** you people! I don't **know** you people! I never **met **you people…"

"Uh one thing," Hunter winced. "I hate to do this to you…"

_"What?"_ Lana looked at him.

"We kind of need you to mail a letter," Agent Tack winced. "You just have to go to the post office on 33rd street and put it in the mailbox numbered 345. That's all."

"WHAT?" Lana snapped. "Why can't you do that **yourselves?**"

"Look I'd do it myself but my car is in the shop," Hunter groaned. "And we're trying to keep communication on the down low. I think it's my muffler."

"We are a little conspicuous," Agent Tack took out a letter.

"There's nothing radioactive in this thing is there?" Lana asked.

"No, it's just some…messages," Hunter sighed.

"Oh no, uh uh!" Lana said. "I'm not doing this! I'm **not **doing this!"

"We'll pay you an extra ten grand," Hunter told her.

Lana sighed and held out her hand. "What do you want me to do with the key?"

"Just put it in the mailbox with the letter," Tack gave her both objects. "Lock it behind you. You'll get paid by direct deposit the next day at the latest. I promise."

"Fine," Lana sighed. "But **this **is the last time! **I mean** it!"

Twenty-five minutes later…

"This is it," Lana closed the latch to the mailbox. "That's done! The last stupid mission."

She calmly walked out of the building. "That's it. My life as a spy is officially over. I admit this was a minor backslide. But now I'm **done**! I'm going to focus on my life as a detective now. Or whatever it is I really do at the Figgis Agency."

"At least I made them take a couple of flyers. And I put another one in the mailbox. I can honestly say to Cyril I distributed them to people."

"I can't believe that asshole is only giving me an hour towards my license to distribute all of these. Oh wait, yes I can. Cheapskate."

Lana got into her car. Locked the doors and checked her phone. "Huh. I've already gotten payment. Good. Just have to cash this check. Why did they give me a check for the first one and not a direct deposit? Never mind. I **don't** want to know."

"This is one thing I will not miss," Lana said as she drove off. "The inconsistency of everything and the overcomplicated plans! I will **not **miss **that!**"

"Technically those are two things."

"What the…?" Lana gasped as she quickly pulled over to the side of the road and grabbed her gun. She whirled around and pointed it at Slater who had one pointed at her. "Slater? What the shit are you doing here?"

"Hello to you, Kane," Slater said calmly. "You really should check your car before you get in. You've been slipping."

"You want to see how much my trigger finger slips?" Lana snapped. "What the hell are you doing here Slater?"

Slater sighed. "I need your help."

"To assist in your suicide?" Lana quipped. "Gladly."

"I'm serious!" Slater said. "I'm on a mission and I just got my car in the shop. I think it's the muffler."

"Yeah there's a lot of that going around," Lana said. "Go get a taxi. Or an Uber driver!"

"You know I can't just do that," Slater said. "I can't endanger civilians."

"Oh, but you have no problems endangering **me?**" Lana snapped. "Thank you very much."

"Look I'm willing to pay…" Slater began.

"I've heard that before! You think I forgot how you used Archer and me for a job that you weren't going to pay us for anyway?" Lana snapped. "Which by the way, we figured out that you wanted Eckerd dead to begin with!"

"Well not until we debriefed him!" Slater snapped. "Obviously!"

"Get out of my car!" Lana snapped. "I just had it cleaned! I'm not in a hurry to wash off bloodstains!"

"There's not going to be any bloodstains," Slater said. "I just need you to drive me around for a few hours and I'll pay you ten grand! Direct deposit."

"You know my bank account number?"

"We're the CIA," Slater looked at her. "Duh!"

"What makes you think I'm going to **do** this?" Lana asked. "How do I know you're not just going to stiff me again? Give me one reason I shouldn't kick you out of my car right now!"

Slater sighed as he put his gun away. "I'll pay a hundred bucks up front for gas money."

"Buckle up," Lana put her gun away and prepared to drive off.

Shortly after on the freeway…

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this!" Lana grumbled as she drove. "I have better things to do today than to drive your ass around town!"

"No, you don't," Slater said. He was now in the front seat. "That adult day care you call a detective agency isn't exactly swimming in clients."

"Why do you think I have to deliver all these damn **fliers?**" Lana shouted.

"Not to mention deliver one or two other little things on the side," Slater looked at her. "You think we wouldn't figure out those little courier jobs you've been doing for your old buddy Hunter? When you are specifically **banned** from doing any espionage work!"

"Really?" Lana snapped. "You wanna **go there**? _Now?_"

"Point taken," Slater apologized. "Then again everybody needs a little side hustle nowadays."

"Make another crack like that and you will be hustling along the freeway," Lana grumbled. "During rush hour!"

"Fine! I'm sorry I brought it up!" Slater apologized. "Now that I think about it, it does make sense. You were the only one in that group that was even halfway qualified for spy work!"

"Hey! I was the best agent in Mallory's old spy agency!" Lana snapped. "Despite Archer's opinion."

"Guess that's why she made you a babysitter to her son," Slater said. "Again, makes perfect sense. What I can never understand is why **you** didn't leave like most of your other colleagues? Even Hunter had enough sense to leave. And that guy has the managerial style of Buddy Bell."

"Imagine how far I could have gotten," Lana groaned. "I admit it. Half of it was that I was still hung up on Archer."

_"Was?"_ Slater asked. "Aren't you _still_…?"

"Let's just say I've been re-**re-**evaluating my relationship with Archer," Lana sighed. "The coma has given me a lot of time to think. I'm done waiting for him."

"Really?" Slater raised an eyebrow. "Huh. So…If Archer's out of the picture…"

"Nooooope!" Lana said. "Let me nip **that** particular thought in the bud! Forget it!"

"Why **not?**" Slater asked.

"Because you're an asshole!"

"From what I've seen," Slater remarked. "That seems to be your type."

"You know?" Lana remarked.

"Pull into that gas station," Slater pointed.

"Why?" Lana asked as she did so. "Is this part of some complicated plan?"

"No, I just really have to go to the bathroom," Slater winced. "Should have **not** had that extra double expresso this morning. And that breakfast burrito on top of it."

"Fine," Lana sighed as she pulled up. "Here, take a flyer with you. Just put it somewhere in the restroom."

"Can I have two?" Slater asked. "By the looks of this gas station I may need to wipe my ass with it."

Lana sighed. "I'd be lying if I said that no one has ever done **that **before with our flyers. And not just Pam."

Twenty minutes later…Back on the freeway…

"I said I was sorry," Slater groaned.

"I'm sorry too," Lana grumbled. She was driving with all the windows rolled down. "Sorry I didn't throw your ass out of the car when I had the chance!"

"What are **you** complaining about?" Slater snapped. "I just paid for the gas you got at the station! And I threw in a lavender air freshener to boot!"

"That was the **least** you could have done!" Lana snapped.

"I said I was sorry!" Slater snapped. "Again, my bad! I also shouldn't have had that breakfast burrito."

"It's like riding around with Pam," Lana groaned.

"It wasn't that bad!" Slater protested.

"It was **close enough**!" Lana snapped. "What do they put in the breakfast burritos here?"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"What the hell?" Lana realized. "Are we being shot at?"

"I don't know," Slater got his gun. "God damn it I was sure I wasn't followed!"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Well obviously you were!" Lana snarled. "Damn it Slater if this car gets any bullet holes in it…"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

SKID! SCREECH!

"Wait, is someone shooting at **us?"** Lana realized.

"No," Slater looked behind him. "It's just some guy having a shootout with another guy in a water delivery truck!"

BANG! BANG!

"And now some old lady just tried to blow the guy in a car away," Slater looked. "The water delivery truck is spilling water all over the place."

BANG! BANG!

"And now more people are shooting at the water delivery truck!" Slater gasped.

"Why is everybody acting so gun crazy today?" Lana shouted. "Is the NRA in town for a convention?"

"Wait a minute…" Slater realized something. "What's today's date?"

"It's the 25th of…" Lana's eyes widened as she realized something.

Slater realized the same thing as well. "OH SHIT!" They both shouted at the same time.

"God damn it!" Slater groaned as he readied his weapon. "It's Open Season on the LA freeway!"

"Is it the spring equinox **already?**" Lana gasped as she pulled out her gun. "God damn!"

"They need to put warning signs on the highway!" Slater shouted as some gunfire was heard.

"Oh, there's a sign!" Lana growled. "It says _Clear skies! Have a nice day_! HERE'S YOUR NICE DAY ASSHOLE!"

Lana pointed her gun and shot at the sign. Apparently, a few other people had the same idea because soon the sign was riddled with bullets.

"Seriously," Slater snapped. "They need to put real signs during this time of year!"

"They do!" Lana agreed.

Someone shot at Slater but missed. Slater shot back. "This is a real safety hazard! Not everybody lives in LA assholes!"

"You're telling **me?"** Lana snapped as she shot at someone before they could shoot her. Sending the car crashing off the road. "I've lived here for over a year and I'm still…Oh my God, I've lived in LA for over a **year!"**

"It doesn't seem like it," Slater remarked before he fired his weapon at another car which veered off, crashing into another car. "Are you sure? For some reason I think it's been four or five years."

"No, it's been three," Lana groaned as she swerved and sped up to avoid a car crashing into her. The car missed her but ended up crashing into another car. "God AJ is in preschool now."

"Get outa here!"

"No, she is!" Lana insisted.

"No, I mean **get us out of here**!" Slater pointed. "There's two guys in different luxury cars going at it!"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"YOU'RE GONNA TAKE OVER MY FIRM OVER MY DEAD BODY, LARRY!" A man shouted.

"THAT'S THE IDEA, NORMAN!" The other man shouted.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"MY COMPANY WILL TAKE OVER BOTH YOUR COMPANIES!" A third man shouted.

"TRY IT MCNEIL!" Larry shouted. "SEE WHAT HAPPENS!"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Oh god," Slater paled. "Is it also Buyout Week **too?" **

"Sounds like it," Lana groaned as she swerved to avoid a car.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"YOU SHOT MY GREY POUPON!" Norman screamed. "YOU ANIMALS!"

"GET US OUT OF HERE!" Slater shouted.

"Hang on!" Lana made a quick turn and was soon able to get off the freeway. "God, I hate driving around LA."

"Me too," Slater groaned. "I wouldn't be surprised if they found a bullet hole in my muffler!"

Soon Lana had driven them to a street full of shops. "Okay stop here," Slater told her. "That's where I need to be."

Lana did a double take. "Hotsy-Totsy? A _strip club_? You made me drive you all over LA for a **strip club?" **

"First of all," Slater pointed out. "It's a high-class gentlemen's club."

"Potato, po-strip-o."

"Second it happens to be the headquarters of Big Sal Salvatore," Slater explained. "A big player in LA's mob scene."

"And I'm guessing an occasional contact," Lana remarked.

"Hey! It's not like Big Sal is the next Whitey Bulger!" Slater snapped. "I got a quick meeting and then we are out of here."

"I've heard that before."

"Just wait here," Slater got out of the car. "I should be back in twenty minutes."

"Fine," Lana said. "But if your ass isn't out here by two, I'm leaving. I have to pick my kid up at school by three thirty! And since it's halfway across town…"

"Okay, fine! Whatever!" Slater went into the alleyway.

"If they know he's coming why didn't he just go through the **front door**?" Lana mused. "Oh whatever. Not my problem. It's an extra ten grand. Not that I will probably get much. I'm lucky I got gas money."

Lana looked across the street. "Huh, they have an Office Store right there. Well at least I can pick up a few supplies while waiting. Cross that off the list."

Thirty minutes later…

"Good thing that Office Store had a bathroom," Lana groaned as she sat in the car. There were some bags in the back seat. "And I was able to slip in a couple of flyers on their bulletin board. Now I'm down to 32 flyers."

"Okay to be fair, I'm actually getting a lot more done today than I thought I would."

"At least I was able to fill up my car and not pay for gas. Got a few extra dollars to boot."

"Now I have to figure out how to get rid of 32 flyers. Damn it, I shouldn't have promised Cyril I wouldn't throw them all out in the trash."

"What the hell is taking Slater so long? Damn it. I **knew** I shouldn't have taken this job. Should have just thrown his sorry ass out of my car and…"

Then she saw something. "Oh, this is **never** good," Lana groaned as three big men approached her car. She grabbed her gun in preparation.

One of the big men held up his hands. "Yo! We don't want to fight, Lady! Big Sal wants to just talk to you. It's about your partner, Slater!"

"He's not my partner," Lana got out of the car, holding the gun in her hand. "He's just the asshole who paid me to drive him here."

"Like one of those Uber things?" The second big man asked.

"Something like that," Lana sighed. "I don't know what his game is and I don't **want **to know."

The men looked at each other. "Yeah, we all kind of figured that."

"What do you mean?" Lana asked.

Cut to the scene of Slater stuck in a vent in the wall of an office. "This was not one of my better plans," He moaned.

"You **think?**" A large heavyset woman with a Brooklyn accent, short auburn hair and a stylish cranberry pantsuit snapped. Two muscular female strippers in tight glittery clothes were there as well.

"You have got to be kidding me?" Lana remarked as she walked in with the goons. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Did you really have to bring her into this Sal?" Slater groaned.

"Sal?" Lana did a double take. "You're Big Sal?"

"Short for Sally," Big Sal admitted. "And it sounds tougher too."

"Hang on," Lana took out her phone. "I gotta take a picture of this!"

"Oh, come on!" Slater snapped as she did so.

"I got that for my new screen saver," Big Sal nodded. "You're Lana Kane. Former spy now detective."

"How do you know who she is?" Slater asked.

"You don't think we run background checks **too?**" Big Sal snapped. "There's this new thing called the Internet! You should try it sometime!"

"What the shit is going on here Slater?" Lana snapped. "You said you had a simple meeting to go to! Which obviously was a lie because you snuck in an alleyway instead of going through the front door!"

"That's what we thought!" The first goon said.

"This is classified!" Slater protested.

"Oh, shut up you drip!" Big Sal said. "I made a deal a year ago with the CIA to occasionally provide information to 'em for some small renumerations."

"Payoffs," Lana nodded.

"Bingo-bongo," Big Sal nodded. "And some other minor details. Long story short we were supposed to renew the terms of our contract for another year with this mook but he decided to take things into his own hands. Such as they are."

"Let me see if I get this straight," Lana raised an eyebrow. "This whole thing was about a **contract negotiation**? If that's the case, why the hell didn't you just go through the **front door?"**

"We thought that too!" One of the flunkies said.

"That's your problem Slater," Lana glared at him. "You have to make everything ten times more complicated than it has to be!"

"That's why we decided to talk to **you,"** Big Sal said. "Look all I want is protection for my girls and a five percent hike in payments. Which at today's going rate is very reasonable."

Lana looked at Slater. "I'm guessing you tried to get around this by sneaking in and trying to find something to blackmail her on? Am I right?"

"We have a winner," Big Sal remarked dryly.

"Yeah, I've seen this before…" Lana sighed. "Unfortunately."

FLASHBACK TO THE PAST IN NEW YORK!

"You wanna explain this?" Lana folded her arms. She was dressed all in black.

Archer was also in black in an office. But he was stuck in a vent. "Not particularly no."

"Okay," Lana turned. "Have fun hanging around. I'm going to call your mother."

"No! NO! NO!" Archer cried out. "Lana! Lana! LANAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

FLASHFORWARD!

"This brings back some memories," Lana sighed.

"Let's just say we think you're more trustworthy to negotiate than this guy," Big Sal said.

"She doesn't have the authority to negotiate anything!" Slater shouted. One of the strippers hit him on the head. "OW!"

"Shut up fool!" The stripper snarled.

A phone rang. "Whose is it?" Lana looked around.

"Slater's. The genius dropped his phone before he got stuck," Big Sal explained as she held it.

"Give me the phone," Lana said as she took it from Big Sal

"HEY!" Slater protested. "That's mine! Give me that!"

Lana looked at him. "Come get it." She waved it tauntingly before answering the phone.

"Hello Hawley," Lana answered the phone. "Congratulations. You win the big prize! Because Slater A, needed a driver because his car was in the shop. And B, got stuck in a vent when another one of his ridiculous plans went wrong."

"Oh, I am so going to get in trouble for this," Slater winced.

"Yeah, I told him that," Lana said. "Didn't listen. Look here's the deal. Big Sal wants protection and a six percent pay raise for information she provides you. Okay now that's gone up to seven percent. Do I hear eight? I thought so. And on top of that I get fifteen grand in direct deposit for this whole mess."

"We only agreed on **ten!**" Slater shouted.

**"Fifteen,"** Lana said. "What makes me think you're going to agree to these terms? I think you will. Don't pull that high horse crap with me Hawley! Both of us have negotiated with far worse than a mere mob boss. Now that I think about it, Big Sal is more honest than you! Oh, I wouldn't tell the press. I'd just tell Mallory. I **thought so.** Pleasure doing business with you. What? Oh yes, I'll tell him."

Lana hung up the phone. "Slater, Hawley wants you to see him in his office as soon as you get back."

"Great," Slater hung his head down.

"You are so busted!" One of the henchmen snickered.

Lana turned to Big Sal. "He agreed to protection and a seven percent increase. He'll talk to you in a few days about something. Which I really don't want to know about."

"I'm good," Big Sal grinned. "And so are you."

"I have a three-year-old," Lana said. "And work with people who **act** like three-year olds. I'm used to tough negotiations."

"Been there," Big Sal nodded. "I got three kids! Two grown boys and an eleven-year-old girl! My girl's a sweetheart. My boys are idiots. They take after their father."

"That's my biggest fear," Lana groaned. "That my daughter will take after her father."

"Let me guess," Big Sal said. "He's a self-obsessed, skirt-chasing momma's boy."

"He's the **ultimate **self-obsessed, skirt-chasing momma's boy," Lana admitted.

Big Sal sighed. "Boy, have I been there. One of my boys acts just like his idiot father. Already knocked up one of my girls. But they have the cutest little baby you ever saw!"

"Aww," Lana said. "Can I see?"

"Sure!" Big Sal took out her phone and showed Lana. "There she is at her christening!"

"Oh, she is adorable!" Lana squealed. "How old is she?"

"Six months," Big Sal said. "And she already has more sense than her daddy. Oh, here's one we took at the family reunion."

"Oh, I love that little dress," Lana said. "It reminds me of my daughter when I took her to the zoo the other day. Here's a picture of her." She took out her phone.

"Awwwww…" Big Sal said. "Well she is such a cutie-patootie! She's three now?"

"I can't believe it," Lana sighed. "She's going to be in preschool then first grade and then next time I turn around high school. Oh, here's my daughter on her first day of preschool."

"AWWWW!" Big Sal and the strippers said.

"She's adorable," One of the strippers said. "My daughter's five."

"Let me see!" Lana practically squealed.

"Here's her for her talent show," The stripper showed them. "She came in first place for baton twirling."

"Awwwwwwww!" Lana, Big Sal and the other stripper said.

"She's cute," One of the flunkies said. "Oh you gotta see my little girl! She just turned two last week. Here's her at her birthday party!" He showed his phone.

"AWWWWWWWWWWW!" Lana, Big Sal, the strippers and the other mom heavies cooed over the picture.

Slater came to a realization. "I'm in Hell."

"Nah, you're just in LA," Big Sal said. "Same area code though. Okay so we're done?"

"One more thing," Lana sighed. "Does anybody want any fliers?"

Shortly later…

"I hope you're happy," Slater grumbled as Lana drove him to the airport. His clothes looked slightly stained.

"I am," Lana said. "Not only did I get fifteen grand plus a five-hundred-dollar tip from Big Sal, I got rid of all my flyers. She said she'd put them up in her places."

"Swell," Slater said sarcastically.

"I got all the supplies we needed plus a new contact for the agency," Lana added. "Today was a good day for me."

"Goody for you," Slater snapped.

Lana pointed out. "Hey, I'm not the idiot who had to crawl through a vent too small for me! You're just lucky Big Sal had enough baby oil to slide you out!"

"Hawley is never going to let me forget this," Slater groaned. "Just drop me off at the airport where I hope to God, I never see you again!"

"If only," Lana said. "Lucky for you I checked my direct deposit. Thank you for the fifteen grand by the way."

"Like I had a **choice!"** Slater groaned. "Hawley is gonna take that out of my pay. I just know it."

"Serves you right!" Lana told him as she pulled up to the airport. "Here's the airport! Have a **wonderful flight** out of my life!"

"The feeling is **mutual**!" Slater snapped as he left the car.

"Well," Lana remarked as she pulled away. "I did pretty well today. It says something when you make more money at your side hustle than you do at your **real job."**

"Not that whatever it is we do at the agency counts as a real job. I wonder how much money those Uber drivers make?"


End file.
